Chapter 14
AN: I'm back with chapter 14! i know last chapter was a really bad cliffhanger, sorry about that. This chapter is a teeny tad shorter than the others, but I had to end it at a certain spot for plot purposes, but don't worry, there's still plenty of reading material! Thanks to and Ravenflame13 for reviewing! Without further ado, here is the next installment of Reclaimed Love!
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Eddie Kitsis and Adam Horowitz.
Quote: "If you only have a hammer, you tend to see every problem as a nail." - Abraham Maslow
The night had gone by fairly well for Killian. He had met some of David and Mary Margaret's friends and colleagues, and had gotten along well with most of them. Emma had stepped outside for a moment. He knew she didn't feel entirely comfortable in social situations like this, but he also knew that she just needed to break off for a little bit and be by herself, and then she'd be alright.
His conversation with August Booth, a friend of David's from work, had slowly come to an end. He looked around the small bar and saw the Emma hadn't returned yet. With a frown, he made his way through the clumps of people and out the door into the cool night air. Looking around the area, he couldn't see her. This gave him pause. It wasn't unlikely that she had decided to just return to her apartment and turn in for the night, but she would have told him she was leaving.
"Swan?" he asked warily. His words seemed to die the moment they left his mouth. His surroundings remained just as still as they had been. "Swan?" he asked again, his voice rising with slight panic. "Emma?"
Nothing.
A feeling of dread settled over him as he realized that she was not anywhere near him. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone. He could hardly even tap on her name his hand was shaking so much. The phone rang on his end. It rang, and it rang, and it rang.
And then nothing.
He tried again. And again. He texted her multiple times. No reply. He didn't know what to do. She was gone.
But there had to be some way, though. There had to be some way to find out where she was. Racking his mind, he realized that there was a program on his phone that could discover the location of anyone he had in his contacts. He opened it and pressed on Emma's name once more. It showed an icon of her picture positioned over a street a few blocks away. While the two locations were fairly close, the areas were very different. She was not in a good place right now. That part of town was shady and lots went on there that he wanted no part of. There was no good reason for her to be there.
He broke off into a run and headed in that direction, hoping against hope that his Swan was alright.
/PAGE BREAK/
Emma woke up on a cold, hard ground with a throbbing pain on the side of her head. She reached up to feel it, but found she couldn't. With a start she realized that her hands were bound incredibly tightly behind her back, as were her ankles and knees. She could hardly move. Her mind rushed back to remember the events that had happened, and she was overcome with despair.
He was back. She had thought she'd finally moved past what he had done to her, and now he was back. What was even worse was that this was probably the end for her, and she'd never gotten to tell Killian goodbye. Her heart sank even further at the thought of him.
A voice interrupted her thoughts.
"How you holding up, Emma?" Neal said. She looked up, recoiling at the sight of him. She remembered his appearance all too well. She remembered his tan skin, his sandy brown hair, his perfectly white teeth that could somehow form an innocent-looking grin. She remembered his light brown eyes that would look at her tenderly, until one day they didn't. She remembered everything about him, and it had haunted her every day.
Regaining her wits, she started to scream, but he was at her side in a millisecond. His hand came up to clamp over her mouth once more, rendering her incapable of releasing any noise at all. Her head and back were now pressed up firmly against his chest. She felt a metal circle press up hard against her temple, and she realized he had a gun.
"Now listen to me, Emma," he sneered her name, as he always done, "If you don't scream, if you only speak very quietly, I won't kill you right now. Understand?"
She nodded, fear crawling up her spine. He removed his hands and the gun and stood up, letting her fall back to the floor again.
"So," he said, flashing that perfect grin, "any questions?"
"How?" she mumbled, her voice weak and hoarse.
He gave a chuckle. "Good behavior. They let me out after only a few months. I thought about going back for you, but then I realized I should lie low, not do anything that could draw attention to myself. So that's how I stayed for years. I was living in Detroit, stealing food and stuff, nothing major. Very recently I came to Boston. I had my eyes set on a painting from a museum here, it was worth millions of dollars. I had a plan to get it. Until one day, I saw you walking down the street, holding hands with another man. I no longer cared about artwork, I cared about you. I've been waiting for a chance to get you alone and now I finally have."
She was stunned. She hadn't had the faintest idea about any of this. "You were following me?"
"Oh, you bet," he said. "You're really attached to him, aren't you? I haven't seen you not by his side in the longest time. I wonder how he stands it."
That made her blood boil. "Shut up!" she yelled at him.
Once again, he moved forward at an impossible pace. He grabbed her around her torso and hoisted her up to a standing position. With her knees and ankles bound, she couldn't balance herself, and he was holding her up entirely. He stuck the gun up to her head again.
"Do you not remember what I said, Emma?" His face was right up next to hers. "Obviously not, but no matter, I've decided that I change my mind. So, these next few minutes will be your last."
At these words, she began to twist in his arms, struggling against the ropes wrapped so tightly around her. It did no good, though. Her bonds hadn't loosened one bit, and he was far too strong.
"Oh, and just for good measure," he teased, putting the gun away and reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a strip of cloth. It was very long and looked thick enough to hold like iron. Against her protests, he stuffed the cloth roughly into her mouth and then wound it around her head several times, securing it in a knot on the back of her neck. Like all the others, it was tight, and it silenced her completely.
He threw her down violently, and pain shot up her arm. She tried to scream once more, but no sound escaped. Neal was making his way over to her. He picked her up, slinging her over his shoulder and then dropping her again. He picked her up a second time, one arm wrapped around the back of her thighs and the other around her arms. She struggled again, desperate to escape him, but he simply tightened his hold and snarled at her. He slammed her into the side of an old, abandoned building next to them with so much force that the bricks it was made of began to come loose, many falling out. He slammed her again, and this time the entire wall collapsed. He let go of her and she fell amongst them, some even coming down on top of her.
Now, all she knew was pain. It was coursing through her entire body, filling up all her conscious thoughts except for one image. It was an image of him, of Killian, as he looked down at her with his incredible smile and breathtaking blue eyes. That was the last thing she saw before everything around her went black.
/PAGE BREAK/
Killian was almost there. He just had to turn one corner and then he would find her. His breathing was short and ragged, and his hand was uncontrollably shaking. He could hardly even think straight, his mind was so full of worry and fear for her. Gods, if anything happened to her, he wasn't sure how he would live anymore. He had lost so many people in his life, so many that he had been broken completely for a time, until he met Milah, and then she left and he didn't think he'd ever be put back together again. But then he found Emma again, and she held him, healed him, fixed him. Losing her, in any way, shape, or form, would kill him.
He was broken out of his thoughts by a loud crash coming from the area just ahead of him, the area where Emma was supposed to be. He almost died right then and there at the very thought of what could be going on. He pushed the image aside as he turned around the corner and what he saw shook him.
There was a man standing in the middle of an alley. He wasn't very tall, with sandy brown hair and eyes. He had a maniacal look across his face, and was grinning evilly. Killian's eyes drifted to the left.
There she was.
Her hands, ankles, and knees were bound with course ropes, and there was black cloth wrapped around her mouth. She was lying amongst a pile of bricks from a collapsed wall. She was covered in cuts and bruises, and her eyes were closed. He hoped, hoped with everything he had in him that she was okay.
He steeled himself and faced the other man.
"Hey!" he yelled, his voice coated in fury. "Who are you?"
The man turned towards him with a look of disdain. "You know who I am, Jones."
The pieces clicked inside his head. "Cassidy."
"Surprise," he said, a murderous glint in his eyes.
"How did you get to us? To her?" he roared.
"That's unimportant."
"What did you do to her?"
"Also unimportant," he said casually.
The two men stood there looking at each other for a few moments, more hatred packed into their gazes than one would have thought possible. With no warning, Neal lunged at him, and he tumbled to the ground. Killian got up quickly and swung a punch at the side of his head. He felt a small crunch in his hand but brushed it off. Neal came at him, delivering a kick to his stomach, sending him to the ground again. He got up once more but was knocked down a third time. This time, he felt immense pain in his ribs, so much that he saw red. The other man simply had the upper ground on this one.
Neal pulled out a gun and set it at him. He was overcome with pain so great he could hardly move from where he was.
"You know, Jones, I only had one goal in mind. Emma. I was gonna make her pay. I never would have thought I would get both of you in one night. How fortunate for me. I'd tell you to say goodbye, but it doesn't look like there's anyone left for you to say goodbye to." He gave a nod to Emma's lifeless form behind him.
He knew he was in his last moments, and all he could think about was how he had failed her. He had promised Emma that he would protect her from this man, and he let her down. He hoped she was still alive, but he would die soon anyways, and then she would be next.
He heard a click and knew he had only seconds of his life left. He thought of Emma, of how wonderful she was, of how he loved her more than anything else, and he decided he wasn't going to let her or himself die tonight. He would fight for her, for after all, a man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets.
Ignoring all the pain that screamed at him from every part of him, he swung his legs out into Neal's, scrambling to his feet as the other man fell. The bullet shot into the sky. He grabbed Neal by his shirt collar and slung him into the opposite wall with all his strength. He watched as the man's head hit the cement wall and he came crashing to the ground. He let out a breath before he turned to Emma.
Rushing to her side, he began removing small bits of debris off of her. Pulling her out of the rubble, he began to remove the bonds that restrained her. He fully unwound the black cloth around her mouth, pausing for a moment to cherish what her face looked like, bruised and all cut up, but never more beautiful. He snapped out of his trance and got to work on her legs. Starting with her ankles, he tried to undo the knots that held the ropes in place, but they were tied incredibly tight and he couldn't. He found a broken piece of glass and was able to quickly saw through them. His heart ached when he saw the red lines left by them. He quickly removed other sets of bindings and he whipped out his phone to call an ambulance.
He gathered her in his arms, pressing gentle kisses on her face, whispering to her. "Emma, please wake up, love. I need you, I love you. Please wake up. Please."
He continued on like that, just hoping.
Hoping.
AN: Another cliffhanger, I know. :( Please review though, and I am open to constructive criticism! I will see you all next week!